Paper Hearts
by Fenikkusu Ai
Summary: Being obsessed is sometimes considered perfectly natural. [SartoriusxOC]
1. Revelation

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh GX or any of its characters except for "the girl."

* * *

"What more do you wish to hear?" the fortuneteller inquired softly. 

The girl stared at the cards. Her gaze appeared murky and disconnected. Sartorius didn't like that look. It was a look of obsession.

"My father," the girl whispered. "Can you tell me if he will get well?"

Sartorius sighed. He dreaded topics such as these even if the cards were never wrong in their predictions.

"This is your father now, correct?" The card he had drawn showed a man just about ready to collapse under the immensely heavy weight of ten slim rods as he trudged up a mountainside. The Ten of Wands.

The girl's eyes narrowed. "It looks like a…struggle." Her gaze met his own. "What does it mean?"

"Just what you said. Sometimes, the cards speak for themselves. Your father has been fighting long and hard against his illness." Sartorius had pointedly decided not to press about the nature of this potentially life-threatening malady.

The girl was now absently chewing her lip. "But…will he…live?" She was very obviously holding back tears.

In answer, he drew another card; squinting down at the ensuing depiction. "The Three of Wands," he observed. "Decisions will be made and alternate treatment options will be explored. Let us draw another card in the hopes that your query becomes clearer."

With a light rap, the third card lightly touched the tabletop. In spite of himself, he smiled—his expression synonymous with the golden-clad, raven-haired woman that had been painted on the card itself.

"The Nine of Pentacles. Security and success is in your father's future. You have nothing to fear."

The girl raised her head up; wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She seemed overwrought.

"Thank you," she rasped.

"Your gratitude isn't necessary. I am merely a Messenger of Fate. This result would've happened anyway; I'm merely revealing the result in advance.

"Oh." The girl's head drooped.

Sartorius clasped his hands and studied the oddly halting and silent girl. Her pale face was obscured by an overwhelming ginger-colored mane. To anyone's eyes, she resembled a profoundly defeated person. However, Sartorius was not one to judge. Or take interest for that matter.

Collecting the three stray Tarot cards, Sartorius motioned to put away his deck. The reading was over.

"Wait."

Sartorius froze. He could sense her uneasy mind. "Yes?"

"I want to learn about my love life. I want to see…if there is anyone for me in the future."

A harmless enough question. Never one to turn away a querent—within reason of course—Sartorius found himself already shuffling the deck.

"What do you wish to know about in particular?"

The girl met his gaze once more; her hazel green eyes vaguely misty. "I want to know who he is or how I might recognize him."

Immediately, Sartorius set down to work. The girl was a paying client after all. Indeed, this was the fourth occasion he had divined for her. He was beginning to find her presence worrisome, but then again, he suspected she just needed consolation. And company.

Nevertheless, he was a professional. He told clients the truth and nothing more.

For perhaps the hundred thousandth time in his life, Sartorius flipped over a card. "This is how you will recognize your future…" His words broke off as his attention was completely taken over by the card. _The_ card.

His old adversary, the Devil, stared up at him in all his terrible glory.

"Is there something wrong?" The girl's voice was edgy.

It had to be a mistake. Yet, no mistake could have been made. The cards never lied. Reshuffling them would have been unnecessary especially when he would only reach the exact same outcome.

Sartorius found the strength to steel himself. "The man you will become involved with will be of the unscrupulous sort. He will be overtaken by his baser instincts that could border on…evil."

The girl's mouth dropped open. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

A silence filled the room as the candles kept on burning. The girl was observably beside herself. Instantly, Sartorius understood. She had already been of a timid nature and now he had given her reason to worry. Naturally, he felt it proper to politely elaborate.

"Of course, the Devil could also correspond to someone born under the sign of Capricorn. It's all a matter of interpretation."

"I'm a Cancer," the girl blurted out.

Sartorius lost his train of thought. "Pardon?"

"My zodiac sign is Cancer the Crab. Capricorn is my opposite sign. It's the absolute worst match for me."

"I'm afraid Astrology is not my area of expertise. Will that be all?" Sartorius was getting impatient. His eyes kept drifting back to that damnable card.

"Yes." The girl sounded depressed. "That's it for now."

Sartorius snatched up the card that was offending his sight. She would be back. Of that he was certain.

"How much do I owe you?"

Sartorius checked the clock. "Our appointment was 4:45 and it is now 5:09. Twenty-four minutes. That will be twenty-four dollars."

Mechanically, the girl threw the money on the table. If she kept this up, she'd have no funds left. But, it was not his place to lecture to a paying customer.

"Thank you again." The girl ducked her head nervously. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"You're welcome. Have a safe journey home."

With that, the nameless girl left the room.

* * *

Author's Note: Not a big fan of Sartorius/Saiou but this idea was too good to pass up. I did a little research for this fic so the card and astrological information is factual. And yes, Sartorius hasn't yet turned evil in this fic. 


	2. Reflection

The dense steam closed in over him as Sartorius allowed his head to rest on the tub's edge. His last reading with an elderly man he had never seen before ended at 5:43 and he stopped taking customers at 6:00. The elderly man's queries had been easy enough to answer and their business had concluded smoothly. The gentleman would not be back.

However, not all business could be as such.

Frowning, Sartorius closed his eyes and thought back to the nervous girl that seemed to deliberately seek him out.

_She must not have a lot of friends. She must be looking for a miracle in the Tarot…or in me._

It wasn't as if the girl herself had caused him distress; it was the card she had coaxed him to collect that had prompted such a reaction. He shouldn't be afraid of Major Arcana 15, but sometimes despair overwhelmed him when he considered his inevitable fate—a fate he couldn't even begin to explain to this girl.

_Which begs the question: why was she given that card in particular? Could somebody else be as evil as me?_

Foolhardily smirking at his to-be tragic destiny; Sartorius rose from the rapidly cooling water and grabbed for the fluffy towel he had laid out for himself a half hour or so before.

He usually bathed after his readings. Often, drawing the cards for complete strangers or drawing the cards in general made him feel unclean. Especially when the Devil crossed his path.

_I should speak with Sarina or Aster about this. Perhaps they have more experience with hopeless female infatuations. _

If it were all the same, Sartorius would prefer never meeting with her again. Her glazed eyes unnerved him, her slumped shoulders and wan expression alarmed him, and the card she had indirectly requested was the icing on the cake.

Lost in thought, Sartorius reached for the robe that hung on a nearby hook whilst simultaneously redirecting the towel to his dripping navy blue hair.

* * *

Halfheartedly, the girl bobbed her head to the beat of the music issuing from the computer speakers. Her mother had just recently arrived from work and now it was presumably time for dinner.

_What will it be? Pizza? Burgers? Fried Chicken?_

Some would consider herself lucky. From four to six-thirty, she had her run of the house. With a mother that worked mornings and most of the nights away, she had oodles of free time. Had it not been for her cat Cookie, she would have spent it alone.

It wasn't as if she was chronically anti-social; it was just that she preferred her solitude. Most people didn't get her anyway. As long as there was a check next to her name one the daily attendance sheet, no one paid her any heed—which was fine. She didn't want them to notice her.

Presently, she was reading her horoscope; trying to size up the week ahead of her. This did not always reassure her constantly wandering mind.

"Claire? I'm back!"

Abruptly, the bedroom door opened. In a flash, Claire clicked the little 'x' in the upper-right hand corner of the screen. However, it was too late to hide her music. It had already been heard. Thankfully, the lyrics had emanated from one of her "cleaner" songs.

Soon, her mother stood in the doorway—holding a distinctly shaped styrofoam container. Chicken it was then. As she took in the sight of her mother, the woman frowned.

"_This_ is your History homework? Don't you have that research paper to write for tomorrow?"

This particular piece of homework involved two more pages of typing. Oh, well. She could hand it on Monday for partial credit if it got too late.

"I can listen to music and do homework at the same time," Claire responded matter-of-factly.

Mrs. Montrose was observably counting to three. "I brought dinner. Eat it downstairs at the table for a change or at least in the living room—_not_ up here. You're always up here."

Claire cringed at that '_not_.' Her mother's tone meant business.

Reluctantly, she closed the web browser before shutting down the computer entirely. She had to eat sometime. Now was good as any other.

As Claire made her way to the first level of her home, she couldn't help but wonder what the psychic was doing right now. Something secret no doubt. Something mystical. Like his eyes. Never had she seen such a rich shade of purple. His entire demeanor spoke volumes that she couldn't read. This irritated her.

_I have to see him again…_

It was getting to be an obsession she knew. Still, she was getting her fortune read and getting to know that intriguing presence both. What could be better?

Positioning herself on the powder blue couch, Claire popped open the top of her ready-to-eat meal. Mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, and fried chicken greeted her. It was all a part of a balanced if not a bit unhealthy supper.

Her mother plopped down on the couch beside her. The silence was beginning to settle in.

Claire helped herself to a bite of biscuit before asking her question.

"Is dad any better today?"

Her mother sighed heavily. Claire was already resigning herself.

"The doctors don't know yet, sweetheart. They don't know."

"Do you think he'll get better soon? When will they know?"

Absent-mindedly, her mother fingered the golden cross at her throat. "Have patience, Claire."

Dropping the subject, Claire started on the chicken with the now fully formed intent of what to ask the vivid-eyed psychic next…

* * *

Author's Note: This chapter was very OC-centered. My apologies. I made Claire as un-Mary-Sue-like (Is that a word?) as possible, and I hope I have succeeded. 


	3. Rambling

Sartorius clasped his hands together. He was waiting for his next appointment. The Tarot cards were neatly stacked, and the atmospheric mood had been set. Candles and closed drapery were sufficient. Incense made his eyes water.

4:27. How often he checked the clock. How fast time ran in general. No different from a flowing stream, a patch of water one gazed upon for a brief instant would be succeeded by another patch of current the next. Oh, yes. So much time has already passed…

At 4:28—two minutes early—she arrived. She was clad in a school uniform and appeared both exhausted and out of breath. Dark circles hung under her eyes.

_A troubled soul._ _Then again, I see a lot of troubled souls._

"Welcome," he greeted her. "Please have a seat and we can begin immediately if you wish."

Wordlessly, she settled herself into the contours of the armchair. Sartorius noticed that her fingernails had been bitten down to the roots. A strange girl. A very strange girl indeed.

All at once, she fixed him with a soulful gaze.

"My father. I want to know when he'll get well. It's…killing me to wait—"

A pause. When she spoke no more, Sartorius took this as a signal to play his benevolent role.

"Of course. First, allow me to shuffle the cards properly." Her impatience was starting to wear on his nerves.

"You mean…there is a way to tell when something is going to happen?" If possible, the girl's eyes grew more intense.

"With the cards, any query can be answered--if the person knows how to use them," he replied politely yet brusquely. "Now, allow me to carry out your request."

Needlessly, Sartorius' hands continued to shuffle the cards as if on their own accord. He was keenly aware that he was strengthening a potential fatal bond, but this deck was all he had to cling to. It was his identity. It was his sanity. Even Sarina and Aster understood such things.

_Fwap._

The card that Fate had chosen landed on the table. Its image boasted two willowy figures—one male and one female. Engagingly, they toasted one another with twin goblets. The Two of Cups.

"You will be reconciled with your father in two months and no less." Sartorius was trying his best to maintain a gentle tone.

"That long?" The girl's face fell.

"The best things come to those who wait. Was there anything else?"

The girl was visibly concentrating despite her obvious heartache. Sartorius couldn't help but admire her resilience. Finally, her lips opened again.

"When will the man I am destined for appear to me?"

Another question, another card. Sartorius chose the next card with the unnamable sense that an invisible bridge had been crossed. A blade painted on the card's surface revealed itself to him. The Ace of Swords. For a moment, Sartorius himself could not speak.

"Well, did he fall of the face of the earth or what?" The girl was attempting to make a joke. He didn't blame her.

"Quite the opposite. The Ace of Swords this man you are seeking should encounter you very soon. In under a day, I believe. Maybe even…tonight."

The girl was watching him carefully. It was taking a while to register. It was taking Sartorius himself time to process it as well.

_No._

The tense moment had passed and suddenly Sartorius could breathe again. Gathering himself, he directed his previously scattered attention to his customer. "Is there any other concern I can help you with?"

"No thank you." The girl's voice sounded rather far-away. "I think I should try to find my future soulmate now."

Vaguely numb, Sartorius took the girl's money and then simply sat there in the newly quiet room with one thought running through his mind.

_Why me?_

* * *

Claire walked the street in a miserable mood. It was late, and her mother would be home. Consequently, her mother would be angry because she was not there likewise.

Gradually, the sun was sinking into the sky. It was approaching seven, and she still hadn't yet met The One.

But, his predictions are never wrong.

_Tomorrow._ _He must have meant tomorrow…_

Self-consciously, Claire tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear and wet her lips.

_Who am I kidding?_

After attracting a few offended stares from several passerby as Claire's eyes lingered longingly at each man that wandered into view, Claire at last confirmed that none of them were interested. As usual.

_It's because I don't wear make-up, isn't it? Maybe I'm too flat-chested…_

Resigning herself, Claire glumly mounted the steps that would lead to her front door. No sooner did she step onto the porch did the door itself fly open.

"Claire?" Her mother's voice invaded the peaceful twilight. "Where were you?"

She shrugged. "Walking." Claire hadn't told her analytical Aquarius mother about the psychic. She wouldn't understand. She especially wouldn't appreciate that she had spent eighty-nine dollars in all.

Her mother heaved a heavy sigh. "Get inside."

Without an ounce of protest, Claire complied. The door closed behind her with a deafening bang. Automatically, the questions started.

"Where were you walking? With whom? Why didn't you call?"

"I started walking around the neighborhood and didn't feel like going home right away." All Claire really wanted to do was get away and perhaps lock her bedroom door.

_She's never around anyway. Why do I always have to remain here like a dutiful pet?_

Foolishly, Claire edged towards the steps.

"Where are you going?" her mother demanded. "Explain yourself!"

"I have homework," Claire replied offhandedly. "I won't do it again. I promise."

"Somehow, I just don't believe you, Claire." For seemingly the umpteenth occasion, her mother sighed. "I suppose you don't even care about your poor father."

Suddenly, something in Claire snapped. Fiercely, she leveled her gaze. "I wish dad were here right now."

Hoping her mother would catch her meaning; Claire drifted up the staircase.

_Where's my soulmate when I need him?_

* * *

Author's Note: This fic has potential to reach completion. I can't always say that about my fics. I also found out that Claire meant 'bright' which is oddly appropriate. 


End file.
